


I Wanna Taste The Way That You Bleed.

by SuperAnarchy



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bottom Chris, Bottom!Chris, Human!Chris, M/M, Top Sebastian, Top!Sebastian, Vampire!Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperAnarchy/pseuds/SuperAnarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian is an old vampire, Chris is a new pleasant prey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously fictional, only fictional. Everything comes from my own imagination, I'm not pretending to claim anything.  
> If you wanna talk about Evanstan or anything else, I also have a [tumblr](http://superanarchy.tumblr.com/) or if you wanna [throw some prompts](http://beardhenleysandfingers.tumblr.com/) at me or just chat, I'm really bored lately ^.^  
> 

Walking quietly down the darkened streets, Sebastian hums an old lullaby to himself. The fresh air that announces a cold winter hits his nostrils unpleasantly with every inhalation he takes, but the wind brushing his skin doesn’t seem to bother him. He doesn’t pay attention to the group of teenagers drunkenly dancing afar, nor to the lamp post flashing and crackling noisily above him; too focused on the melody reminding him of a glorious past.

The neighbourhood looks like it comes straight from a cheap horror movie, as if it was constructed on purpose, used as decor. He wouldn’t be surprised to hear murders had been committed here, even less by some of his kind. Not that he’s afraid. Sebastian has nothing to be afraid of. It’s just the atmosphere, there’s something in the air that feels oddly… comfortable. Relaxing. Soothing. To anyone else it would be creepy, but Sebastian gets an unusual state of peacefulness from it. There’s a awful smell emanating from the back of a narrow alley, but he keeps walking, still singing to himself.

If Sebastian’s alone for the night, it’s simply because his clan, his _family_ , left for a few days; so he’s decided to travel on his own. He’s visited a few other towns before this one, but he has to say, there’s something interesting here. He always liked small towns, but there’s something else; memories of his past flashing in front of his eyes when he sees an abandoned bar at the opposite of the street.

He isn’t one to complain about being lonely, he’s been alone for centuries. He enjoys loneliness and tranquillity but he admits after a few weeks away, he misses the presence of his brothers. That’s what you get for spending so many years around the same people, you start missing their company.

 _Yes_ , even the ones Sebastian has already thought of throwing into the sunlight or nailing to their bed with a wooden stake. (You’d wish to do the same, if you knew them, but like Sebastian, you would miss them once they’re gone. Likeable assholes; that’s what they are.)

You could say he isn’t _particularly_ social, more the quiet kind of guy that you’d forget is there until you catch him out of the corner of your eye, but he’s faithful and loyal to his pack. They became his family and they’re the only people he can trust and rely on. They lost one of their own not that long ago and that’s the kind of thing that improves relationships. Not that after centuries, and the many wars they fought together, there’s still a lot they need to improve. He’d give his life for his king without hesitating, would do the same for any of his brothers.

Sebastian knows how to be discreet –one of his best quality, it’s turned out to be very useful in the past- but tonight Sebastian wants something else. _Needs_ something else. Entertainment, distraction; no guilt, no shame. Just fun.

There’s a bar he heard of recently that he decides to try. They _apparently_ , secretly serve fresh human blood. The consumption of blood is still illegal, _hell_ vampires are barely accepted as a part of the population, so it piques his curiosity to see if it’s real blood they have to offer.

They called it the “The Virgin Mary,” in reference of the famous Bloody Mary cocktail he assumes, unless this time, it’s the blood of a virgin and not tomato. At least that’s what he’s heard. And he’d lie if he was saying it doesn’t sound delicious to him. A pure, delectable beverage.

Sebastian can’t help but roll his eyes and sigh at the frontage of the club, another vampire related name, and he’s ready to bet that no vampire is affiliated with what he’s already decided, is a disgraceful place.

He doesn’t expect much from the club, he’s seriously getting bored of those non-inventive places, badly imitating vampires’ parties. They’re always full of drunk and dull people, none of whom ever know how to have fun without being disrespectful. They’ve clearly never attended parties like those that he’s been to; sinful but classy, not cheap and gross.

It’s seems like it’s the new tendency though, that whole “vampire thing” and Sebastian loathes it. Outraged humans dare use the word “vampire” to designate their debauchery. In no way does he feel flattered, he even feels slightly insulted. And that’s without mentioning all those books and movies that came out recently.

He doesn’t particularly plan to satisfy _all_ of his desires tonight, but perhaps some of them.

He’s gotten used to screwing poor, dumb, brainless, humans. But it’s tiring for him, to lower his intelligence and his standards so he can pretend to like the guy and be rewarded by bad sex in a shitty place. It’s tiring but yet he keeps doing it. Habit, maybe.

What he doesn’t know yet, is if he’ll get the chance to meet someone with an attractive scent, and a tempting beat of heart tonight. The kind of person he’d struggle to not jump on his throat and drain him from his humanity, until life gives up on him... _Mmh_ , just thinking about it, he wants blood.

There’s so many people who would gladly offer Sebastian this exquisite feast, but offering is taking all the fun from it. He wants excitation. He likes to hunt. He’s programmed to hunt. Vampires _are_ hunters by nature. So it adds a little thrill, to wait and see if there’s someone like this around. A special little human, until then, he wants to try that cocktail.

He admits it though, he can be very persuasive, like every vampire. And he has used that gift in the past to shush people that thought themselves more clever than they really were. But it’s not quite the same as finding someone who acknowledges his superiority, and remains obedient while having that sparkle of recklessness and defiance. A bit of insolence that makes everything more stimulating. Every human he’s been with for as long as he can remember faked obedience, there was no real respect. Either Sebastian felt used as much as he was using, or he was using that gift to obtain part of a feeling of submission. That’s the problem, submission was too real; it wasn’t given, it was forced, somehow, accentuated more exactly. Emphasized.

It’s so rare to find, someone like this, he has lived so many lives and never found that pearl. A clever, dutiful but yet impulsive and passionate someone. He met a handful of person that were close to this, but it never lasted. They either died, or became vampires at their turn, and Sebastian isn’t fooling around with people of his kind. Not anymore, _oh,_ _he tried_ , he loved it, did it for so long.

Maybe he did it too much.

All he can say is that never finding anyone worthy of his attention, forcing himself not to roll his eyes every time the person he talks to is unable to have a meaningful, deep conversation, is draining to his entire energy. Sex is one thing, but after centuries you need more than that, you need communication. You need, _crave_ exchange. Discussions. Something.

Eternity seems like a long, lonely road when everyone you meet is so young, inexperienced and thoughtless.

It’s loud, the music is deafening, and Sebastian barely takes a step into the room when his feet are crushed by some overweight guy, a guy who doesn’t feel the need to apologize and Sebastian fights the urge to smash his face in and teach him politeness. He cleans his shoe with his thumb, trying to wipe away the mark from the rude man’s sneaker. He lets a quiet snort escape his throat, a sound that’s covered up by the beating rhythm that people call music nowadays. Who even wears sneakers when they go out, he wonders, but the guy had no knowledge of civility, he probably doesn’t have any sense of fashion either.

Sebastian looks around him, it’s dark, _really dark_. Darker than outside, hardly enlightened with a few red spots. He has a good vision, but even for him, it’s starting to get a bit difficult to perceive details.

The crowd is piled up in a small room and the spectacle is pathetic, deplorable; girls are dancing, half striping, no elegance in the way they’re moving their hips, and boys are drooling over the show they’re offering. It’s pitiful. Really not classy, really not the kind of place Sebastian enjoys. No respect or courtesy. It’s vulgar. And it takes him no more than a few seconds to understand the level of insult he feels, somewhat deeply offended at the thought that _it is_ what most humans think of when they picture a “vampire party”.

 _Gross_.

The floor is dirty, sticky, and there’s an uncomfortable smell, like a mix between sweat and smoke and something even he can’t define. It’s depraved, full of perversion, sluttish and if his curiosity wasn’t tickling him he’d leave right away. He _really_ loathes all of it. The new penchant teenagers and young adults have, this lack of self-respect, it’s sad.

People used to know how to have fun with sophistication but not anymore. Girls are wearing pieces of clothing, barely covering their skin, dancing more than seductively and boys are being bad mannered, discourteous; this is upsetting. He saw a lot of change in his long life, but he can’t wait to see this period washed away, hoping it won’t be worst, if it even can be. But he made the effort to come so he will, at least stay and try that cocktail before he leaves. Forcing himself not to roll his eyes for the already countless time the evening at the woman rubbing herself against his body.

_No dearie, you’re not my type._

Walking and trying to get away from the girl and the terrible scent of her low-priced perfume but mostly attempting to find the bar, Sebastian finally locates it from afar and struggles to not bounce into anyone as he reaches it. Also struggles, but with more difficulty, to not get bounced into.

There’s a mirror right behind the bar and Sebastian carefully moves into the corner so nobody will be able to notice his lack a reflection, not that anyone looks sober enough to even beginning to interpret anything, but you can never be too careful; lately more than ever.

Since vampires came out of their closet sometime ago - that’s the expression Sebastian always uses to refer as them revealing their existence to the world (do _not_ judge him, when you’re as old as he is, you’ll have the permission to say something about it) – some people are scared, some incredibly aroused, and some swear they’ll kill every last one of his race; and you can never know which one you’ll meet.

Carefulness, that’s the keyword for Sebastian, even if he doesn’t express a inch of fear toward all those threats, he once knew a few vampires that had been too bold to pay attention to those and are now beheaded. He might be a loner, he cares about his head.

And that goes without mentioning the people worshipping them and offering themselves as servants, or the ones begging them to be turned into vampires. Those people are pretty funny to him. They really 

He sits on the free stool, calmly, waiting for the barman to turn and notice him. After five minutes of being patient and understanding, he gives up and ultimately rolls his eyes. He sighs loudly under his breath, exasperated to only see the back of that bartender. It’s a nice back though, he doesn’t mind looking at it, he’s just hoping it won’t last an hour. Eventually, the barman finally turns and Sebastian raises his hand, notifying him he’s been waiting to be served, not fully convinced he saw him in the obscurity of the room. But he miraculously did, maybe his eyesight adjusted to the dark by dint of working here.

As the barman moves closer, Sebastian starts decrypting parts of his face more clearly, he has a beard, that’s one of the two things he’s sure of. The second thing is that the red lights are doing justice to his handsomeness. Sebastian doesn’t deprive himself from the pleasure of watch intently; particularly liking the white tank top that’s shaping the bartender’s muscular chest, and Sebastian would _gladly_ sink his fangs in that chest.

His clothes and those tight, skinny, black leather pants especially, are pretty obscene, way too sexual, too fitting. Not that Sebastian would think about complaining this time.

When Sebastian looks up, reluctantly forbidding himself from staring at that delicious torso again, it’s bright and big blue eyes he catches. Bright baby blue eyes and a cute little grin. The man is charming, clearly standing apart from the trashy atmosphere of the club.

“What can I get you?” he asks, almost shouting.

He’s playing with a cloth, sliding it between his fingers, toying with it. That would be distracting if Sebastian wasn’t caught in his gaze. Already targeting his prey.

“A Virgin Mary, _please_ ,” he answers, smirking and letting one of his fang escape his mouth, exposing himself just a little. If the barman notices it, Sebastian can tell, he doesn’t say anything, just smiles back and looks down. It seems like he’s blushing but Sebastian can’t be sure, the red lights aren’t really helpful.

While the bartender is preparing his cocktail, he doesn’t stop glancing at Sebastian every few seconds. He’s probably not the first vampire he’s seen around, but Sebastian can tell, without mistake, that he likes what he sees. _Good thing_ , because Sebastian finds him to his taste too, maybe the night won’t be as boring as usual. He’s found a new target, a new pleasant toy for the night. If he doesn’t have any conversation, Sebastian decides it won’t matter, he has other ideas than talking for hours floating in mind.

Now that the barman is showing him his nice back again, Sebastian takes the opportunity to glance at his tight black pants one more time. He can’t decide whether he wants to sink his fangs into his muscular chest or his plump ass first, both would be equally enjoyable and satisfying he guesses.

_What a nice butt you have there, sir. Can I get a bite of it?_

Fingers tapping the same old lullaby than he was humming earlier on the wooden bar, Sebastian waits and observes, looking attentively at the man urging himself to please his command. Moving and rocking his hips from left to right at the rhythm of the stupid music. During a discussion the barman is having with one of the customers, Sebastian catch his eyes once or twice more before he walks closer again, an opaque black glass in his hand, he then slides it across the bar, not letting go.

The eye contact lasts longer than should be normal, and it’s obvious they’re both trying to seduce the other. Sebastian lets him, stares back, a proud smirk growing on his lips when the other man’s tongue peeks out of his mouth to wet his lower lip, slow enough for Sebastian to catch the movement but fast enough for Sebastian to believe it wasn’t meant to tease him.

With his presence so close to him again, Sebastian can discern all the scents emanating from him perfectly, in the middle of all the dirty odours filling the room, the smell of his perfume is infiltrating his nostril like a sweet unforgettable treat. The barman’s fingers slightly brush Sebastian’s as he finally leave his hold on the glass, the heat of his flesh warming up the tip of Sebastian’s cold fingers for a split second.

“My shift end in thirty minutes,” the barman says, leaning close so he doesn’t have to speak loud, hands grasping at the bar, showing off his _nice_ biceps.

It’s tempting, that offer. Sebastian smirks grows wider, letting once again one of his long and sharp canines emerge from under his lips. It’s always too easy, to have what he desires, and right now he wants to screw that beautiful bearded man who he doesn’t know, doesn’t care to know, the name of.

Bringing the glass to his lips delicately, Sebastian takes a sip of the bloody beverage. It’s not quite the same as drinking from the source -nothing is equally satisfying as sucking hot blood directly from a human’s body, but it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. At least it doesn’t make him want to throw up, so that’s technically better than anything he’s tried before.

Putting the glass back on the bar, Sebastian is still staring at the muscular man in front of him; he still hasn’t said a word yet.

This time Sebastian is sure the lights aren’t tricking him, the barman _is_ blushing and it’s adorable, really attractive. Quite enjoyable for Sebastian to know he’s the reason for this reaction. He continues in his boldness to remain quiet, and the man looks down at his shoes and then looks away. _Endearing_.

Watching absorbedly the man’s gait as he walks away at the opposite side of the bar, Sebastian brings his drink back to his lips one more time with another smirk drawn on his lips. That’s pretty much all he does for the next thirty minutes. Drinking, hydrating, _feeding_ himself, but mostly staring at the young man moving indecently over the chaotic tempo of the booming noises, as he shakes those cocktails, stealing glances at him every once in awhile.

Spilling god-knows-what alcohol on his white top, wetting himself down to his pants, that’s when the bartender lets Sebastian notice the studded belt for the first time, when he lifts his shirt to wring it out. A delectable vision. Appetizing. His focus only last a half second though, then all of Sebastian’s attention is captivated by the bartender’s bare abdomen. It’s a quick reflex that makes him lick at one of his fangs inside his mouth.

_Can I have a bite of that too?_

Recovering slowly from the delicious view, thinking about how it will feel like, to bite this appealing well-developed belly, Sebastian vaguely feeds himself. Drinking absently, watching obstinately and not leaving his prey from his sight. After a lot of quick peeks, dance moves and drinks served, the barman moves up to him one last time.

“Too bad,” he whispers in Sebastian’s ear, bending over the wooden bar.

His warm breath is projected against Sebastian’s skin, and he would almost shiver at the sound of his voice this close. He doesn’t though, he stays still, doesn’t even answer. Glancing for an instant at the barman’s ass while he disappears behind a closed door, he drinks the last sip out of his glass in a gulp and pays his tab to the lady substituting his missing new friend, and hopefully lover, for the rest of night.

 

Sebastian is patiently waiting, hidden in the dark, leaning against the wall outside when he sees the door opening under the man’s hands. He hasn’t changed himself, just put on a jacket and he’s wearing a backpack on one shoulder.

Walking down the same creepy street he did earlier, Sebastian follows him silently like a shadow. After they’ve passed a second hidden narrow alley, Sebastian abruptly drags the man inside a third. Out of sight, Sebastian pushes the bartender against the wall, showing off his strength. Right now, he wants to play with his prey and nothing is stopping him.

His lips are brushing the barman’s neck, exploring his skin up and down, teasing with his deadly long teeth. He can hear his heartbeat accelerating, he’s scared and his smell is bewitching, _mmh_ , delightfully enchanting.

“You like playing dangerous games, don’t you?” Sebastian whispers teasingly, overconfident. He’s not entirely sure there wasn’t a hidden laugh in his voice. The strangled noise escaping the other man’s throat is a gratifying reward. “What’s your name, dear?” Sebastian asks, expecting an answer this time, tugging at the barman’s earlobe between his teeth.

“Chris,” he confesses in a murmur between two beats of his panting heart, like it’s some kind of secret no one can overhear.

“You like bad boys, hm Chris? You wanna mess with vampires?” Sebastian smirks, cocky and full of arrogance. His hand moves lower and he grasps at Chris’ crotch, squeezing. There’s a lot he can see, smell, feel. Panic, lust, fear, apprehension, desire, nervousness, trepidation. He’s loving the sensation of Chris’ heart jumping in his chest, echoing in his own body.

“C’mon darling, take me to your bed. I promise you won’t regret it.” Sebastian adds, whispering in the hollow of Chris’ ear, using every ounce of temptation in his tone that he can gather. “I’ll make you lose your mind like no one ever did.”

His sharp teeth brush along the length of Chris neck sweetly. He can hear as Chris swallows dryly, hear his breathing getting heavier, faster, more difficult and he _knows_ , he can _feel_ he’s turned on. _Good_. He can also see Chris glancing left and right, looking around to see if someone witnessed the scene.

A bad boy. The bad kind. Vampires. Sebastian is used to that. Being a dirty little secret. A shameful fantasy, one you cannot avow. A onetime memory lost in the night. He doesn’t mind it, doesn’t need groupies everywhere he goes.

As soon as Chris gives Sebastian the permission to come in, and they make a first step inside Chris’ apartment, a shirt flies across the room. Loud moans filling the silence when the kiss deepens, grows more passionate.

One, two, three shoes getting kicked off.

Chris is once again pressed up against a wall, his own, wrists pinned above his head, exposed to the assaults of Sebastian’s lips devouring his neck. The fourth shoe finally hitting the wall behind them in a chaotic rumble after a few seconds.

Sebastian is dominating the kiss, imposing his moves, his frenetic rhythm. Not letting Chris the chance to be noisy, choking every groan, moan, whine, every sound coming from his throat. Exerting a firm pressure on Chris’ wrists, tugging at Chris’ lower lip between his teeth, exerting another kind of pressure against his crotch with his own.

Moving his hands lower to take off Chris’ shirt, Sebastian eventually lets Chris’ wrists free. Mouth coming right back to Chris’ neck, then his collarbone when his skin is naked, sliding down to his chest before the shirt hits the floor.

Chris’ fingers find their way to hide in Sebastian’s hair, following his head as he moves lower to lick at his nipples. Moaning in surprise when he feels Sebastian’s tongue teasing, circling it. His fingers tightening their grip, Chris tries to push him away but Sebastian just moves back up to his neck, following his jaw line, to breathe dangerously close to Chris’ ear.

He’s not silent anymore, loud moans coming from him and Sebastian hasn’t done anything yet, but he already loves Chris’ enthusiasm.

Chris’ hands drops on Sebastian’s lower back and he lifts his back off the wall, pushing Sebastian farther into the room. Sebastian lets him lead them near the bed, Chris’ fingers unbuttoning his pants on the way.

Sebastian stays still, contemplates. Amused by Chris trying to get back in the game; getting rid of Sebastian’s pants Chris falls to his knees, letting Sebastian’s underwear join his pants around his ankles. Fingers digging into Sebastian’s thighs. His wet, teasing tongue playing, pleasing. Licking and fascinating.

The melody of Chris’ heartbeats accompanying the sound of his mouth working on him makes Sebastian’s jaw drop with a contented smirk. _Yeah_ , his enthusiasm is beyond satisfying.

He relishes the way Chris’ mouth is moving back and forth; he’s putting so much effort in trying to please and impress that it’s almost adorable. One of Sebastian’s hand falls on Chris’ hair, he pulls at it, cheering, encouraging. Following.

But soon he’s directing, dominating. Fingers commanding, leading, imposing a cadence upon Chris. His own. A few rough thrusts and Sebastian lets escape a loud breath, nearly a growl, full of pleasure. Encouraged by Chris’ ability to take him so beautifully, he sinks his cock deeper in his throat, rewarding Chris by petting his hair affectionately.

Chris is good, _Chris is very good_.

With yet another smirk, Sebastian lifts Chris’ head, inciting him to get back up on his feet. Like a predator, lust consuming his pale blue grey eyes, he yanks Chris’ pants. He pushes him harshly onto the bed and moves up on him, finding his way to taste his neck again.

He’s teasing himself, he can feel, hear, the blood running through Chris’ veins, pulsating in his jugular, asking to get sucked off. He won’t satisfy his primary needs, not now. Later maybe, _possibly_ , but not now.

Sebastian didn’t pay attention to how the lube seems to magically appears on the bed, but it did, and he won’t wait to use it. Letting his mouth and fingertips roam over Chris’ bare chest, hipbones, kissing his inner thighs. His femoral artery is as tempting as his carotid is; peerless attraction. Chris’ body is offering so many possibilities and he wants to try them all.

Every part of him seems to put a spell on all of Sebastian’s senses.

He feels the softness of his skin under his fingers, hears the beating of his heart racing in his ribcage, tastes the sweetness of his tongue inside his mouth, smells his excitement. Sees the pleasure sparkling in his eyes and animating his body.

Time is flying by and Sebastian is focused, absorbed, enthralled. There’s something about Chris, the way he moves, moans, responds to his touch. Something. Sebastian doesn’t know what it is, but Chris is fascinating.

Wonderfully letting Sebastian’s fingers stretching him open, no complaining, just noisy ecstatic sounds commenting on how much Chris is loving the way Sebastian is moving them in and out of him. The sweet, sweet air of his delight, a lovely melody giving Sebastian ambition about what the night will sound like.

There’s no real notion of time and space anymore, it’s just them, alone in this bed, and Sebastian emerges from between Chris’ legs, leaving Chris whining at the loss of his presence. It’s like a rush of adrenaline, the whines, it’s gratifying and Sebastian pushes his cock in Chris to fill his absence without waiting.

He starts rolling his hips, listening and matching his rhythm to the pulse of Chris’ heart jumping in his chest, and the song of his adorable, lustful moans.

It’s torrid. There’s no other words to describe it. The heat of their moving bodies warming up the room, the sweat dropping from their skin, wetting, falling on the sheets. There’s something happening between them. Some kind of connection. Sebastian can’t seem to understand exactly what it is, if it’s the way Chris is moaning his name, so loving and yet the huge amount of pleasure is palpable, or if it’s the way his cock is perfectly nestled in him, feeling like home, like it’s exactly where it belongs to, like Chris was made to fit him flawlessly; but there’s something that makes him want to never let him go.

He doesn’t know _what_ it is for sure, but he doesn’t need to. It’s a familiar sensation and it’s irresistible. He’s taking possession of Chris’ body, claiming it. Loving it. Talking is optional at this point, besides the fact that Sebastian is reducing Chris to a whimpering mess; they don’t _need_ to talk, they just _know_.

Paying attention to all the hints their bodies are giving away, betraying them, is sufficient. At least it is for Sebastian, but all the sounds, the blood circulating in his entire body, his heart pounding into his chest, the moans, the bed shaking, hitting the wall again and again… They’re all so beautiful to listen to, fascinating.

The way Chris’ legs tighten around Sebastian’s waist when he thrusts in that particular spot, the noises escaping his mouth, his whole body trembling with pleasure, his hands blindly trying to grasp at his back. Chris might be thinking he has no control over the situation and that Sebastian has all the power, and yet it’s really Chris who is controlling him without knowing it. _He_ is directing, silently ordering when he lift his hips one more time, urging. And Sebastian aims to please, following and accepting every unvoiced order. _He_ ’s obeying with contentment.

_He’s obeying._

That’s part of what he likes the most and never gets the chance to experience, because usually the persons he fucks doesn’t let him the chance to, because they’re not as good as Chris. Taking pleasure in seeing the pleasure he gives, yeah, that’s most definitely one of the things he’s getting high on. With Chris, it’s even more, he hears, sees and feels the pleasure. Like he hasn’t in so long.

Every time he feels himself becoming close, Sebastian slows down, or stops. Take the time to caress Chris’ body, getting him drunk on his touch, needy. He brushes, explores, with his fingers, his nose, lips, teeth. He wanders over his skin, paying attention to every bit of flesh shuddering under his touch. Kissing, loving, mouthing. Breathing dirty words with a sweet tone. Missing the view of those gorgeous blue eyes that first caught his attention, orders Chris to open them again, still softly authoritative. Takes the time to tell Chris how good he is. Because he really is, does as told, obedient and docile. Ideal and perfect.

There’s a bond between them, a undeniable link. Something. Creating, developing. Growing, as the minute passes. Which should be disturbing, but Sebastian finds it intriguing, how it easily and quickly happened. Fascinating.

And Chris is losing his mind, he’s been driven insane by now, lost. Numb. Wandering in what he feels. Loudly moaning, desperately grasping at Sebastian’s back. Fingernails scratching the bare cold flesh. Shuddering. Trembling. Exhaling. Exalting. Choking on his inhalations. He’s holding onto Sebastian’s movements, coming in hard, long, hot stripes over their bodies.

Sebastian hasn’t come yet. He’s holding back. He’s not finished with Chris. Far from that. One thing he loves about his vampire condition, is that with the time, he learnt more and more how to accentuate his orgasms and he’s doing a great work at reaching a deafening ecstasy each time.

Well when he wants to, when it’s worth it, when his partner is making it possible and it hasn’t happened in a while. But Chris is good, _so good_.

And Chris is silent beneath him, too quiet, chest moving up and down, heart beating fast, blood rushing in his veins. Eyes closed for a few seconds, so beautiful, and Sebastian caresses him once more. Reassuring. Slow. Leisurely. Whispering sweet words in his ear. Kisses him here and there, helping him to recover softly. Leading him to peace gently. Waiting for his heart to slow its insane race.

Cuddling, hugging, kissing for a few long minutes. Long enough that Chris is back on earth, back with him. Kissing Sebastian shyly and then passionately as the time keeps flying by, like the night will never come to an end. But it will, eventually.

And soon, before they know it, they’re back on track. Long minutes, enough for Chris to find a second roll of energy. Kisses. Teases. And they’re both hard again. Chris being insatiable. It’s not tender for long. If Sebastian did a good work at giving the illusion of holding the power before, Chris seems to be more determined, more dominant this time. Straddling Sebastian’s hips, sitting, riding. Perfectly fitting again. Matching cadences. Sebastian’s hands are moving from Chris’ thighs to his hips, abdomen, arms. Stroking fondly.

It’s rough, but the way they’re looking at each other… that’s tender. Sebastian, _for once_ , can’t seem to understand what his partner is thinking about exactly, and at the same time he _does_ understand Chris. He can anticipate every one of his movements but he can’t figure out what’s going on in his mind. They are on the same wavelength, knowing what the other one wants, how to please, what to do. It’s contradictory, paradoxical; perfect. Because the way Chris is looking at him is the opposite of what his body is showing. His gaze should say confidence like his body undulating fiercely, but it says belonging, surrender.

Hands sliding on Chris’ back after longs minutes, Sebastian straightens. He sits up, legs folding as though Chris is holding on Sebastian’s neck to find balance. Sitting on Sebastian’s lap, Chris adjusts and keeps moving up and down and Sebastian is following, rolling his hips to match his energy.

Hiding his face in Chris’ neck, he teases him first, brushing his sharp fangs along the length of it. Barely pressing. And then he becomes more insistent, he ligers on it. Teasing himself. A raw low groan escaping his throat. Bestial. Animal. Inhuman. Hearing the blood running through Chris’ veins. Pulsating loudly, and it’s tempting, _oh so tempting_.

He wants to bite, craves the taste of the blood that’s been teasing him all night. The desire is extreme, powerful. He nuzzles his collarbone, comes back quickly to his neck, he can’t escape it. The appeal is too strong and Chris moans at the touch of Sebastian’s tongue wetting his skin, licking.

Chris tilts his head on one side, giving permission, offers Sebastian what he wants. Consenting. Submissive. He’s telling him he can do it if he wants to, bite him, claim him. Mark him as his own. Answering the question Sebastian didn’t ask. A question he doesn’t need to ask anymore.

Sebastian parts his lips, opens his mouth, presses his deadly, thirsty long canines against Chris bare flesh, teasing himself one last time and he bites. Sinks his teeth in Chris’ flesh, like it’s meat. A prey, a quarry about to be devoured. Eaten alive.

Feeling the fangs pushing through Chris’ skin as the man groans loudly; sinking his teeth profoundly, Sebastian sucks, drinks, _nourishes_ himself. Suck hard. Loving the rusty taste on his tongue. _Mmh_ , luscious.

Chris’ blood tastes sweet, _so sweet._ Sweeter than he’d imagine. Hot, better than the beverage Sebastian drank earlier in the night. Better than most of those that he’s ever tasted. Succulent. The smell of the blood, mixing with the scents filling the room, it’s enchanting. Addictive.

The savour in his mouth, reviving the pleasure of his taste buds, revitalizing. That’s the closest from living he’ll feel ever again, when he’s drinking blood. It feels like his body is coming to life again, he feels vulnerable, dependent, needy. He feels powerful, unstoppable. He feels alive. Gaining strength.

But before Sebastian can swallow a second gulp, Chris finds his mouth. Kisses him. Slides his tongue inside Sebastian’s mouth for a full, deep kiss. He’s tasting his own blood on Sebastian’s tongue, moaning in his mouth. His tongue playing timidly with Sebastian’s; and it’s thrilling, exciting. Intense. It’s rousing and arousing. Insanely good. They’re sharing a passionate, long, profound kiss and Sebastian is still moving his body, he keeps rolling his hips frenetically, choking every of Chris’ moans.

If he’s being totally honest to himself, that’s one of the hottest thing Sebastian’s ever experienced. And he’s tried and done quite a few things in his long life.

Moving in and out of him, Sebastian leaves Chris’ mouth and bites again at his neck, sucking, lapping. Swallowing. He needs it. Craves it. The blood. Can’t stop drinking. Chris’ breath accentuates, groans mixing loudly with his moans, and he tightens his grip on Sebastian’s hair, cursing, swearing breathlessly, letting Sebastian smirk against his skin as he drinks him up.

It takes Sebastian not more than a few more minutes, with the immeasurable pleasure of making Chris comes for the second time of the night in an expressive noise, to come as well. Fingers grasping at his lover’s back a bit too hardly, probably leaving bruises.

Chris was good, _Chris is good_.

Sebastian wants to tell him that, but he can’t resolve himself to express how he feels right now. Words won’t come out and he glances at the clock hung on the wall. Day will be there soon, _really soon._ Too soon. He needs to leave. Now.

But he doesn’t want to.

He grants a look at Chris lying next to him, his arm resting on Sebastian’s chest, and the man is struggling to keep his eyes open, blinking with difficulty. He has the mark of his fangs on his neck, still freshly injured. Sebastian’s hand moves up to run in his hair, trying to memorize his smell, his touch. He listens to his heartbeat slowing down, listens to his breathe getting louder.

Night is leaving and the sky is becoming clearer.

Sebastian gets up on both his feet, put on his pants, hearing Chris mumbling something in his back, passed half asleep now. He looks peaceful and adorable, and Sebastian surprises himself staring. Wishing he could stay.

_For the first time in decades, he wishes he could stay._

Wishes he could fall asleep here, now, not leave the bed. Not leave Chris. And the boy’s falling asleep, and sun will be rising soon, very shortly, _so shortly_. He _has_ to leave, but for the first time in what feels now like forever, he doesn’t _want_ to.

What a human’s privilege, to hold someone without worrying about the time passing. He doesn’t envy much from the mortals, really not a lot of things, but Sebastian does envy them this one. He should be the one not caring about time, because he has too much on his hands, and yet here he is. Leaving because he has to and not because he wants to.

Once fully clothed, Sebastian picks up his jacket off the floor and looks at Chris one last time before leaving his apartment. If he had his heart still beating, it would surely miss one heartbeat at this instant. The picture is lovely, he’s nuzzling his face against his pillow, with messy hair and a pink cheeks, his body barely covered by a white sheet. And still, that mark on his neck, Sebastian’s mark.

Wandering along the barely darkened streets, walking fast, Sebastian replays the whole night in his head. Again and again. He still can’t figure out why he cares about the fact he left Chris alone, but he does. He’s been wishing to feel something for so long that now that he does, he’s disconcerted. 

Chris was good. _Chris was too good._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously fictional, and only fictional. Everything comes from my own imagination, I'm not pretending to claim anything. (Especially not saying Sebastian is a vampire.. or maybe?)  
> If you wanna talk about Evanstan, Stucky or anything else, I also have a [tumblr](http://superanarchy.tumblr.com/) or if you wanna [throw some prompts](http://beardhenleysandfingers.tumblr.com/) at me or just chat me up, I'm really bored lately ^.^ ♥  
> 

Almost a week passes since that night, and no matter how hard Sebastian tries to forget him, Chris is always in his thoughts.

The morning after the night they shared, Sebastian had not slept for one minute. Made his way back home striding the streets, the memory of Chris’ excited heartbeats still resonating in his ears. He spent all of his day wandering in his hotel room, his bed not feeling as comfortable as holding Chris in his arms. Laying down, sitting up, turning the TV on, and turning it off just as quickly. Walking in circles, observing the details of the ceiling, and turning the TV on again.

The vision of _his_ mark on Chris’ neck haunting him, a vivid memory slowly taking over his ability to think. Sleep. Rest. Move, too. He even surprised himself licking at his fangs, could almost taste Chris’ blood flowing down his throat again. The unforgettable, singular favour of his blood lingering on his tongue. Hot and delicious.

He felt like a greedy, young and inexperienced vampire all over again. Unable to control himself. He wanted more of him. Wanted Chris in his arms, in his bed, fangs nestled in his neck, feeding as his whole body is moving, frenetic and restless, thrusting in long marvellous movements. Immeasurable pleasure.

Chris is… out of the ordinary, and it’s driving Sebastian insane just to _consider_ the fact Chris might not just be a simple useless human. He’s… He can’t even say what Chris is. Can’t describe him. Among all the words, in all the languages he knows, he can’t find one proper word to describe him. Or to explain what he feels. It’s such a dumb thing, it is, because _it’s not love_ , and yet it’s more powerful than a simple desire. He wants him, he does, but that’s not _just_ lust either.

Yes, he _wants_ him; kneeled and moaning, breathless. Wants him against a wall, on the ground, wants him on his hands and knees and bent over. Wants to see those perfect lips parted and desperately gasping for air, wants to see them breathing his name, crying it out loud. Wants to feel his body trembling under his weight, wants to feel those strong thighs wrapped tightly around his body.

But he also wants Chris naked and curled up against him, wants his heat warming up his cold flesh. Wants Chris’ eyes on him, wants to see that beautiful smile again. Wants to feel his beard slightly scratching his chest as he nuzzles his face against it, sleepy and panting. Wants to hold him close, be gentle and rough, wants to hear his heartbeat slowing down. Make him feel good and treasured. Wants so much more; Sebastian wants it all.

He wants Chris’ blood and no one else’s.

_But it’s not love._

It _can’t_ be love because all Sebastian knows is loyalty. Faithfulness. To his king, his brothers, not to a random human. All he knows is devotion, commitment to his cause- _their_ cause. He learnt the hard way that love is just the name of the deadliest weakness known today. A dangerous disease. Disastrous, causing pain and suffering. It’s a sweet torment, driving you crazy until you feel like drowning into space. Love is not love, love is just another way to trick you, blind you. Fool you into thinking life is bearable. Loveable, even.

The times where he could have thought he was falling for Chris are far gone. Miles behind him. That’s _not_ an emotion he can experience anymore, and he’s beyond okay with this fact. Fondness, that’s for sure, he likes Chris, cares about him, can’t deny it, but _that’s not_ love.

Maybe it was the virgin blood that got him light-headed, maybe it was something else, maybe it was just the magic of the moment. Whatever it is that made him loose his mind, he’s determined to find the reason behind it. It can’t be Chris alone. It just can’t be.

_What have you done to me?_

Sebastian’s supposed to meet his clan again the following night, after weeks apart, and he’s been avoiding Chris the whole week, was sure it would be enough to forget about him. But apparently it’s not, and Sebastian wants blood, wants it now. He doesn’t _need it_ but he wants it. Desperately. Chris’ more precisely. And what Sebastian wants, Sebastian gets. So Sebastian decides to spend his last night in town at the awful bar Chris works at; hoping he’ll be there again, something telling him he’s going to.

And that _something_ ’s not wrong, as soon as he walks inside, Sebastian can smell his delicate perfume and that’s another wave of memories flashing in front of him; he detects his heartbeat, focuses on it. Familiar, lovely melody, a tiny grin across his lips as he remembers Chris’ heart chanting the song of ecstasy in his chest. He already know where the bar is, so he moves toward it with difficulty, the agitation in the room flagrant. He sits on the first free stool he sees, not caring about the mirror in front of him this time. Eyes set on Chris.

He’s at the opposite of the bar, talking with a few people and shaking cocktails with vigour. He glances in Sebastian’s direction, freezes, his lips curving into an adorable grin and his hand keeps shaking the beverage more lazily. Dirty thoughts invading his mind, Sebastian stares, insistent. He doesn’t walk up to him, not for a few more minutes, which makes Sebastian kind of feel insulted, but he waits patiently, eyes not leaving his favourite prey, until he’s finally decided to join him.

“’Thought you’d never come back,” Chris says as he grasps at the wooden bar, enjoying to show off his well sculpted biceps.

_Thought you’d never come and say hi._

“That was my first intention,” Sebastian answers without leaving Chris’ eyes, not glancing anywhere else. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of checking him out.

“What made you change your mind?”

Oh, Sebastian knows what it is, who it is, but he won’t give Chris _this_ satisfaction either. It’s like glancing at his muscles, if he’d do that, then Chris would know why he’s here for. And if he does, then Sebastian can’t play.

The thing is, Sebastian enjoys his position of power, and right now, he’s feeling really playful. In fact, he could have, if he had wanted, left earlier, join his pack a day or two before, but the idea of seeing Chris one last time was too good to him to let go. And the ridiculously endearing grin on his stupid adorable face is the reason why.

“I’m leaving town, just thought I should feed myself before I go,” Sebastian answers, honest.

There’s a spark in Chris’ eye that lightens, and Sebastian isn’t entirely sure of what it means. Can’t say if Chris is simply happy to see him again, that he thought of coming to say goodbye, or if by ‘feed myself’ he’s already offering his own neck to bite.

“Do I get you a Virgin Mary?” he asks and then leans in closer, whispering in Sebastian’s ear with an impressive amount of confidence, “Or would you rather drink me up again?”

_D’you think I’d ask for your permission if that was the case? I would already have my fangs in your neck, darling._

So much boldness; Sebastian admires his nerve, but that’s mostly just imprudence. It’s clear that Chris has never had to deal with vampires before, but it’s _so_ cute to see him this excited. He should be more careful though, or he’ll end up in a ravine in less time than he thinks.

Sebastian’s an old vampire, and a kind one despite the appearances. He stopped counting all the humans that died in front of him because they were too overconfident a long, long time ago. But the time _he_ had to end someone’s life, an innocent’s life, Sebastian can count them easily. Ten fingers are more than enough. He remembers each and every one of them, remembers who, when, how and why; but there’s more, ones he doesn’t feel bad about, wars ones for example.

Sebastian doesn’t answer the question, and Chris finds himself like a fool, blushing adorably at first. His bearded cheeks tainted in a loveable shade of pink. Gorgeous. Then he watches at Sebastian’s face, scanning, looking for any hint of expression; there isn’t the beginning of one, Sebastian’s face stern and cold. And then, _finally_ , Chris snorts difficultly, a bit of bitterness palpable in his laugh, and he walks away, silently, while Sebastian admires the view.

_One day, I’m gonna take a bite of that ass._

He loses himself inside his memories of the night they shared, watching Chris’ fingers cutting lemons, looking at him dancing and avoiding his gaze. He remembers the sounds, the tastes, the smooth delicate skin under his teeth. Remembers Chris moving his body, remember him falling asleep and Sebastian remembers _his_ mark on his neck.

He can’t see from where he is, so he sits up, tilts his head, trying to get a glimpse of it, but Chris is wearing a shirt hiding what’s left of the injury, something that irritates him deeply. He cringes, eyes narrowing, air leaving his nostrils in a loud exhale as a sigh of exasperation. Frustration?

If Chris walks up to him this time, it’s only to bring him his glass, he doesn’t even lay his eyes on him. Sebastian grabs his wrist, trying to get his attention, which works, and Chris ultimately looks down at him. Sebastian’s eyes change from showing annoyance and irritation to desire and lust, pupils dilating and Chris seems to understand. His fingers reaches for Sebastian’s firm hold on his wrist but he pushes his hand away, defiant; eyes not leaving Sebastian’s as he walks away. Feeling rebellious.

A tiny, well hidden smirk on his lips betrays him. He’s playing along. Sebastian is sure of it now, and he fights his own smirk to grow on his lips.

_Chase me, hunt me down, I’ll come back as sweet as a lamb, crawling back and begging for more._

Sebastian doesn’t leave him from sight during the whole next hour, makes sure Chris knows he’s being observed, watched. In the end, when Chris glance in his direction, he’s partly blushing and grinning, pretending not to notice Sebastian looking at first but then, when he has a few seconds of rest, he returns his gaze. But that’s only for a short instant before he looks away, attempting to hide his obvious, wide smile. Charming.

The glass in front of him stays full, Sebastian has no desire to drink it, he’s too busy watching each of Chris’ dancing moves. Every one of his actions, and he’s not even hiding it, he looks like a predator about to pounce on his prey and anyone should get the message to stay away.

Unfortunately, Sebastian’s hidden from a large part of the bar, and when Chris spends longer than usual talking to a customer, Sebastian grasps at his drink tightly. A bit of jealousy showing up. Initially it’s just that, just a little jealousy because Chris’ attention is catch by someone else so he’s not playing their little teasing game anymore. But he stays still, sitting on his stool, quiet. Because he doesn’t own Chris, because Chris has the right to do whatever he wants. Talk to whoever he wants.

He tries his hardest to not focus on their conversation and leaves Chris his privacy. Starts sipping at the beverage he never intended to drink. And when that customer leaves, Sebastian breathes again, catching Chris’ attention once more, until-

Until the customer shows up a second time, less than five minutes after he left. And then annoyance adds itself to the jealousy. Because it’s obvious he isn’t asking for a drink, not with the bright smile he’s offering, not with Chris laughing joyfully, and it really doesn’t look like he wants to be a friend.

Sebastian knows what he’s feeling isn’t right, that Chris _doesn’t_ belong to him, that he _isn’t_ his property. But he could be. His. If Chris wanted to, asked for it, Sebastian could have him. Own him.

_If Chris wanted to._

He _thought_ , earlier tonight, that Chris was as deep in this as he is, _thought_ Chris was playing the same game he was. A bit of seduction and a lot of frustration. He _thought_ the night they shared was special to Chris as it seemed to be. As it was to him. But right now he doesn’t feel so sure. Insecurity hitting him in the face like it hadn’t in a long time. Nervous and worried.

_What, in the hell, have you done to me?_

Here’s the secret truth: Sebastian only ever owned one person before, it lasted, for awhile, honestly, Sebastian thought it would last forever, but what does forever mean when you’re immortal? _He_ was human, and after some time Sebastian agreed to turn him so they could spend many lifetimes together. One after the other. That’s what happened, they shared life after life, being soldiers, witches, doctors, travelling around the world and beyond, together, happy and all; until he betrayed them. Their cause. Betrayed Sebastian and everything they stood for.

Sebastian had to hunt him down, chase him through the continents and the decades, to regain the lost trust of his family, because he was the one who turned him, brought him in their household, he was responsible for his protégé. Sebastian was as guilty as _he_ was and there was only one way for him to redeem himself. He _had_ to kill him. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but because Sebastian felt he’s been taken for a fool. Duped, played, lied to. After that, Sebastian never thought he’d be able to even _consider_ the possibility of having anyone else. He met other people after him, but he always lost interest in them pretty quickly.

Chris though, Chris is reviving a few of Sebastian’s forgotten needs and desires, some instincts. Sebastian _wants_ him. Selfishly. Craves him so deep it hurts in wonderful ways. So that guy smiling at him like he’s already sure Chris will spend the night at his place irritates him an awful lot. He’s both envious and exasperated and he focuses on their conversation. The music lowering, he’s only listening to what’s saying between the two men; and what he hears doesn’t please him, at all, but not in the way he expected it. Because Chris is politely declining the offer, and the man doesn’t seem to understand that, persevering and it’s maddening. Sebastian tenses, grasping hardly at his glass.

He knows he has no right to jump in and interrupt the conversation. He knows that. Knows Chris is a grown man, an attractive one, and on top of that a barman, which means he probably has to deal with such indecent propositions a few times a week. Sebastian knows it. Chris isn’t some damsel in distress he needs to rescue. _He knows._ He’s well aware. But the guy remains indecently insistent and Sebastian fumes, in less than a second he’s behind the guy’s back. 

“I think you should leave him alone,” Sebastian warns, voice low and calm. Protective, defending what he’d wish would belong to him.

“What?”

“I said,” Sebastian stares at the man who turned to face him, hesitating between convincing him with his natural aptitude or by showing his natural superiority. Finally opting for neither of those options, he keeps talking, “you should leave him alone.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“He’s clearly not interested into you, so you should really leave pal,” as he says those words, the man swells his chest, trying to look impressive and Sebastian just smiles, showing off his fangs, daring. He could laugh at this, would if the situation was somewhat different.

The man’s face falls, as well as his audacity and he looks at Chris, and then back at Sebastian. “Fucking vampire slut,” he spits, “you’re disgusting.”

“ ‘Said what?”  Sebastian asks, pupils widening, focusing a little more, now using every inch of serenity and peace he has to turn the man into his little puppet. He stares back at him, empty, holding on Sebastian’s words.

“I should leave,” he says drained out with a robotic voice.

“Good boy.”

When the guy finally walks away, confusedly looking back at Sebastian when he’s a few steps ahead, Sebastian is looking at Chris. Gauging his reaction, expecting to hear he had no right to step into the conversation, or at least to say something about the rude and very impolite words the man just used. Or even mentioning what he just witnessed Sebastian do, but none of that.

Chris is just looking, standing there without moving, his heart beating fast, Sebastian can hear it loud and clear. One of his co-workers comes up to him and whispers something in his ear while Chris is still staring at Sebastian. He politely looks at her, murmurs something back before moving at the opposite of the bar, reluctantly.

Sebastian does the same, luckily his stool is still free and he sits back down awkwardly. He shakes his head, wondering why he had to act that way, and brings the glass to his lips. He blinks, or at least he thinks he does but it must last longer because when his eyes opens again, his glass is back on the counter and Chris is in front of him.

Chris seizes his hand and bends over to whisper, “Bathroom, behind you.”

Sebastian stares at Chris nodding at the direction, and he has disappeared in a half second when Chris turns his back.

He’s waiting, walking in circles, teeth sinking into his lower lip with strength. When Chris walks in, and their eyes meet, there’s a short moment where Sebastian stops moving. Chris is slowly moving inside the room, hand on the doorknob and Sebastian doesn’t wait before he throws him against the nearest wall, using way too much force. He locks the door, their mouths crashing together loudly and Chris loses his shirt instantly, breaking the kiss only for the necessary amount of time.

As a first reflex, Sebastian inspects Chris’ neck; _his_ mark is still there, and he stares at it, trailing his tongue against it, mouthing, nibbling.

_You’re still mine._

He feels relieved and it’s an agonizing urge that makes him bite in it, the sound of Chris’ blood running in his veins, the view of the loving injury and the memory it holds. Chris’ fingers running through his hair and tighten their grip, soft moans escaping his throat. Fingers wandering on his back, small words falling from his lips, demanding.

Sebastian drinks more than he needs, greedy and insatiable. Gulps after gulps. The rusty taste watering his mouth, flowing down his throat, his hand grasping at Chris’ jaw, possessive. Oh he’s sucking hard, avidly, barely letting Chris the time to breathe correctly.

Unable to stop, without an apparent reason to, he’s just drinking him up without thinking. Absent. The words and noises leaving Chris’ lips are unheard. He can only hear this voice inside his head, repeating the same words over and over again.

_You’re still mine._

Chris’ heart is pounding in his chest, drops of sweat falling from his forehead, running along his bearded cheeks, his delicious scent invading Sebastian’s nose. And damn how much did he miss this scent. He drinks, feeling the substance in his entire body, feeling the adrenaline, something, _everything_. He’s feeling a lot at once, physically, emotionally. Chris’ fingers groping at his back, his hair. Pulling.

If last time he put his fangs in him was fascinating and enthralling there’s no such connotation there, it’s more wild and raw, animal, and Sebastian’s hardly paying attention to Chris. But he’s dragged back down on earth when he focuses on the words Chris keeps repeating.

“Seb, I’m… I’m getting dizzy,” he yelps, fingers sinking in his back, “ _stop_.”

_Stop._

He repeats that last word one more time before Sebastian understands what’s happening. It’s automatic then, he moves fast, leaves Chris’ neck, takes a step back and wipes his mouth. His hands grasps at Chris’ face, touching. Eyes widening, worrying. Disturbed by his own behaviour, feeling humiliated and guilty at the same time. Horrified. Troubled but worried above all. A massive weight pressing against his ribcage.

“I’m sorry,” he says, _breathes_ , shamefully. His fingers still lightly caressing his cheeks. He wants to say more than that, he wants Chris to know how much he means it, but right in that moment he can just hope Chris understands by looking into his eyes. He can’t think of words to use besides those ones, can’t even think of apologizing more than once.

He’s barely touching, cold fingers warming at the contact of Chris’ bristly skin. Chris’ mouth is hanging open, the hot air leaving his lips to linger on Sebastian’s, life escaping his body. His heart still racing, loud in Sebastian’s ears. Yelling in them, judging and mean, ready to explode. His body hints that Chris is frightened, but his eyes are screaming forgiveness and trust. Not a single spark of fear. Not a single light of terror; no disgust either.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian repeats a little louder, fingers pressing harder against his face, finally realising the extent of his action. He swallows down, dry, a hundreds of excuses. Able to think of speeches but not to formulate any other word than those ones.

“It’s okay,” Chris reassures him- r _eassures him_ \- “I’m fine,” he says, but that doesn’t sound convincing. His mouth is dried out, and his voice wrecking, so low. He’s really not, hardly breathing.

How Chris can say he’s fine and look at him like he’s not the most repulsive creature in the world when he almost killed him is beyond ridiculous. He’s looking at him like he’s the answer to all his fears, like he holds the key to quiet every doubt and Sebastian can’t stand it. He just hurt him deeper than he’s willing to admit to himself, and Chris is saying everything is fine. That he’s okay.

“You’re not fine, you’re paler than I am,” he says, tone full of anger, fuming after himself for losing control. “Sit,” he adds, commands, not letting Chris the option to protest.

Compliant, he sits on the floor – _falls against the wall_ \- eyes not leaving Sebastian’s. They look empty though, and that’s clear he’s struggling to keep them open, and Sebastian can’t help but curse internally. He kneels next to him, hands moving right back to his cheeks, touching, stroking. Unsure if Chris is trembling so much it’s reverberating in his body or if he’s trembling as well.

There’s a massive argument Sebastian is having with himself, part of him thinking it’s a terrible idea, he knows it, but seeing Chris blinking his life away is unbearable. Anyone else, Sebastian isn’t afraid to say he would have leave them in the bathroom to die there, no one would have never known it was his fault, within an hour Sebastian could be miles and miles away. Eaten by guilt, but it would eventually pass, it wouldn’t be this difficult to do. But _Chris.._ Just the mere idea of hurting him gets him sick.

He _is_ feeling sick, disgusted by his nature. Mortified he couldn’t stop himself in time. Couldn’t hear Chris. He doesn’t understand how it happened, how he could have let that happen. He needs to do something, anything that might help, and soon, before Chris pass out in his arms. Dies in them.

Sebastian brings his wrist to his mouth, dirty from wiping Chris’ blood off his mouth, bites into his own skin, blood running out of his veins when he presses his flesh against Chris’ dried lips.

“Drink,” he orders.

Chris doesn’t look like he’s thinking twice about it, probably can’t think at all, which means he trusts Sebastian way beyond he should be. He licks at first, hesitating, sucks then, more eager. Fingers grasping tightly at his wrist, and eyes regaining colours and life. Sebastian’s wrist is caught between his lips, blood falling on his chin but he’s still looking so innocent. Childlike. So adorable that Sebastian’s free hand starts to pet his hair and Chris looks up at him, questioning.

_It’s okay, drink as much as you need._

He takes three or four more gulps before he takes a deep inhale by the mouth, leaving Sebastian’s wrist free, as well his conscious. What he just done, giving his blood, that’s doesn’t _mean_ anything, doesn’t involve anything, but it’s not anodyne either. Trust goes both ways, vampire blood can be addictive, can be a lot of things, can be dangerous. If Chris trusted him, then Sebastian does as well. He’ll look after him, take care of him until he’s feeling better.

“Still dizzy?”

Chris shakes his head lightly. Absorbed in Sebastian’s gaze.

“Can you stand up?”

Chris tries to, knees shaking. Leaning on Sebastian, then on the wall, vacillating.

“I should take you home.”

“I… still have an hour left to… work,” his knees breaks under his weight and he falls in Sebastian’s arms.

“You’re gonna feel a little weird for a few minutes,” he reassures him, trying to sound calm, keeping his voice soft and sweet, “your body is adjusting to the blood.”

“That explains why I feel stoned,” he jokes but Sebastian doesn’t laugh, frowns even when he feels Chris shaking against his chest. He’s not completely surprised that Chris never drank vampire blood before, but he still kind of is. Somehow. Weirdly.

“I’m taking you home,” he says, authoritatively, not leaving place for a discussion.

He hears a sound he’s not sure he can define, something between a protest and a cry and he cradles Chris’ face in his palm. “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay now,” he murmurs, stroking his cheekbone.

“My head’s spinning.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, one more time. Hating himself deep inside.

He holds Chris in his arms for a minute or two, until Chris looks like he can walk, at least until his body isn’t trembling uncontrollably and without his knees failing under his weight. Then, he keeps him close, walking toward the sink to clean his face, clear his chin from his blood, clean his own forearm from any evidence, any reminder. Take the time to hold Chris in his arms and reassures him as someone is tries to open the door, knocking and hitting on the doorframe. Sebastian grabs Chris’ shirt and help him get dressed up, his fingers lasting on his waist, solid firm on his shuddering body, looking at Chris and noticing how strong he is under his fingers. Fighting the effects of the blood, without a complaint.

A rapid memory flashes in Sebastian’s mind, reminding him of the feelings he got from drinking his maker’s blood for the first time. Shaking it away instantly. No time to remember this.

Sebastian wonders, over thinking, fearing rejection but decides to kiss Chris’ lips, the lips that are not as hot and smooth as he first felt them earlier. It’s a quick, gentle kiss and when Sebastian tries to pull away, Chris whines quietly, protesting.

“Shh, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay soon, I promise.”

Eyes wet, Chris swallows loudly, words difficultly leaving his dried throat as he grasps the fabric of Sebastian’s shirt to pull him closer. “Kiss me, _please_.”

That’s the tone he use, frail and weak and awful to hear that hurts Sebastian even more than he already is, he can’t refuse him anything so he presses their lips together again. Chris is seeking reassurance, presence, comfort, Sebastian tries his best to give it to him, wrapping him in his embrace, feeling him big but so little against his chest.

Another round of knocks against the door, but Sebastian waits a little more, giving Chris some love to hold on to before they part and walk outside the bathroom, not glancing at the people waiting by the door, obviously angry. He’s got no time to deal with them yelling right now.

He keeps an eye on him when Chris goes to his co-worker to tell her he’s leaving. Sebastian argued, because Chris is weak and Chris needs to rest, _now,_ but Chris won so Sebastian stayed a step or two behind and looked at him while he told her he’s not feeling good and he’s going home. Waited, and worried more when Chris disappeared to grab his backpack. Felt relieved and he showed up standing on both feet.

After that Sebastian almost threw him out of the club, and they headed back to Chris’ place at Chris’ rhythm. Meaning they had to stop a few times because Chris’ head was spinning around, because suddenly he’d fall and Sebastian would catch him in time. Because he’d be speaking and his voice would wreck in the worst, most painful sound and Sebastian would be unable to keep walking; needing to check on Chris’ state, and reassure him some more, hugging him and kissing him.

Arriving at Chris’ apartment, Sebastian doesn’t need to order Chris to sit, he walks up to his bed all by himself. Falls on it, heavily, Sebastian not far behind him.

Chris lays there, silent, while he goes to find him a glass of water. Sebastian joins him on the bed; sits next to him without a sound, lightly. He’s observing him, every detail, how the light sculpts his face nicely, and how those long eyelashes delicately hits his cheeks, and Sebastian’s eyes falls on the mark his fangs left on the skin of Chris’ neck earlier when he drinks his glass.

All of sudden, the mark doesn’t carry the same memory it was earlier. Sebastian feels monstrous. Disgusted. Wants to hide it, can’t stand the reminder of his aggression. Because that’s what it was.

His breathing steady, Chris looks at him as soon as he hears the first words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian breathes, meaning it to the very core of his being, “I don’t know what happened, I lost control.” He apologize, again, perfectly knowing it doesn’t change a single thing. He was being impulsive, and possessive. That’s unforgivable.

“It’s okay, I’m fine now,” Chris answers; lies. As if what happened was nothing, as if Sebastian didn’t almost killed him. As if Sebastian wasn’t tempted to drink until the very last drop of blood his body owns. He says it as if Sebastian did nothing wrong. As if he isn’t angry, afraid. As if he’s not still lightly shaking against the mattress.

_You’re far from fine, and it’s all on me._

“It’s really not,” Sebastian insists, “you told me to stop and I should have stopped right away,” he adds fuming inside; closing his eyes and contracting his jaw, feeling his fangs inside his mouth, he’d tear them out if he could. If Chris choose not to be angry at him he can accept it, but Sebastian intends to hate himself for the rest of his days. “I have no right on you, what I did, being possessive of you, I have no right. You’re not mine.”

_You’re not mine._

The words echoes in the whole silent room, echoes in Sebastian’s head, in Chris’ as well. Doesn’t need to read his mind to know it, it shows on his face, his expression, those tired, baby blue eyes fixing him, his lips closing, the discrete but yet audible swallow. His heart beating in his ribcage with a sensation Sebastian isn’t sure to recognize. Envy, fear, desire, probably all of them.

He’s not sure of anything anymore, not when he’s around Chris. He’s not even sure of himself.

“What if I want to…” Chris tries quietly, “be yours.”

“You don’t know what that means,” Sebastian’s answer is immediate. Harsh. Almost insensitive. He doesn’t mean to, obviously, he doesn’t mean to sound tactless but Chris is being naïve there. He’s not even made a half step into the vampire world. He doesn’t understand the weight of his words, what they implicate. He can’t say words like those ones, he doesn’t even know Sebastian. He can’t say that after what just happened. He can’t be this stupid.

“I trust you,” Chris says interrupting Sebastian’s train of thoughts.

“You shouldn’t,” words comes out on their own, Sebastian so used to employ them. It’s not so much about him specifically, it’s about everyone. Trust no one you don’t know, don’t even trust the people you know. Especially don’t trust vampires. Trust nobody.

It _scares_ him, to know Chris trust him because that means he’d be able to trust anyone. That he could be hurt by anyone. Sebastian hurt him and he’s _still_ trusting him, stupidly. Sebastian already hates himself, he couldn’t handle such wrath toward someone else. That would _not_ end well.

He’s staying calm, because even if it does sound as stupid as it is, Sebastian shares that feeling, whatever _it_ is. He cares about Chris, he does. Too much for his own good. He cares and trusts and he can’t be mad at Chris for feeling the same way. But he wishes Chris had never said that, because it scares him even more. It’s purely terrifying.

“But I do.”

Chris words hurts like sunlight brushing his skin. This is absolutely unfair of him, why would he trust Sebastian, in what world does he think it’s a good idea to trust a predator. Sebastian’s a killer, an animal, hunting to live, feeding on preys like Chris, easy ones. Because Chris is an easy prey. Always has been.

Chris doesn’t even know a percent of Sebastian’s life, his story. What he showed him during their previous night could have been a lie – _it isn’t_ , but it could have been. Sebastian could have let Chris to die in the bathroom. He would have died if he’d met another vampire. Chris has no way to know what are the lies and what are the truths because it’s beyond him. It’s a world he doesn’t know, with codes he doesn’t know and people that can’t be trusted. Sebastian included. And it’s unfair to hear those words in his mouth, because Sebastian can’t detect an ounce of lie, an ounce of hesitation in his voice. Can’t because there’s none.

Chris _does_ trust him. And it’s stupid, and it’s unfair.

“You don’t know me,” Sebastian says back, seconds later, revolted inside to sound like a cliché. Chris isn’t shaking anymore, so when Sebastian notice it, he allows himself to take a deep breathe. Partially relieved.

_You don’t know me, what I’m capable of, what I’ve done._

“Then tell me about you.” Chris’ following question amuses Sebastian because he asks it genuinely, with curiosity in his tone, and it’s such a contrast with the past hour. “How old are you?”

“Four hundred and seventy eight years old.”

“That’s…” Chris stops, a tiny smile growing on his lips, “really old,” he chuckles. That lovely sound, soothing the heavy atmosphere of the room.

His reaction is exactly what Sebastian expected. It’s the same he gets every single time, it’s an immature one, because Chris _is_ young, too young. Probably only met one or two vampires in his whole little life at the very most. It could be amusing, Sebastian could play the game, but he doesn’t want to. Right now it isn’t funny, not with the conversation they’re having. Not with what just happened. Not with everything going through his mind. Chris might look in a better shape, regained colours, not shaking anymore, heart beating at a normal pace, but it’s still fresh in their memory, and there’s still a lot that can happen. What if Chris gets addicted, what if he’ll desperately crave Sebastian’s blood like Sebastian had seen some humans do. What if Chris goes insane, gets sick. So many uncertainties and fears.

Before Chris can formulate another sentence, Sebastian speaks again, warns, gentle and careful. “Chris, you really have no idea what you want to throw yourself into. This is beyond you.”

Chris remains in his youthful innocence, tone increasing a little, getting slightly irritated. “Then tell me what does that imply?!” He hears himself talking louder and he lowers his tone, “If I’m yours then no other vampire is allowed to feed on me, right?”

If I’m yours. _If you’re mine._

_Right?_

“Unless I give them the permission,” Sebastian answers frankly. He could smile at his question, but again he doesn’t.

“Would you?” Chris asks, frowning, eyes darkening a little with what looks like fear and doubt. Possibly panic as well.

_Hell no. No way._

If Chris belongs to him then there’s no way Sebastian will let anyone feed on him, or do anything else for that matter. They would barely be allowed to stand close to him. He knows too much what they’re capable of, if _he_ couldn’t stop himself earlier and he’s the one supposed to care about Chris’ well-being, then how could anyone else do. If Chris is his, then he’s his alone.

“Only if you want to,” he answers instead because it’s not untrue. If Chris really wanted to, Sebastian would difficultly refuse it to him, but the conditions would be strict and important.

“What if someone does anyway? What if someone hurt me?”

“I hurt them back,” he says coldly. Hostility has him gritting his teeth at the idea someone could even think of hurting Chris. If they did, Sebastian would make sure they’d pay the highest price, not afraid to raise the number of his murders.

Chris shivers.

“I won’t let that happen,” he attempts to reassure him, “if you’re mine and someone just looks at you in a way you don’t like…” Sebastian stops, if he’s going to get into details then he’d better get the whole truth out. “Listen, my role is to make you feel safe, Chris. That’s not glamorous at all, that means I’d kill for you, literally. You’re not a servant, you’re not a pet either, you’ll be mine and everyone will know it.”

_Mine and mine only,_

_And everyone will know it._

Meaning if anyone tries to hurt Chris, it’s because they want to attack Sebastian. The respect for vampires’ property – _humans,_ might be the only thing that has been respected for centuries and it will stay that way for a few more. You do not touch someone’s property unless you have a death wish. That is all.

“I want to, be yours,” Chris says, with an endearing voice and a cute expression, and still those beautiful eyes staring at him, his heart skipping a beat, “I know you would look out for me, I know you would take care of me.”

“And how d’you know that?” Sebastian sighs.

And how did Sebastian get himself into this conversation? When did it happen? Why are they discussing this possibility? He can’t seem to recall how it started, or even why it kept going. He should put an end to it.

“Because I trust you.”

_Obviously._

“Stop saying that...” It is so unfair to keep hearing him say those words. That he trust him. As if was meaning them with so much conviction he believes it. As if he was implying he knew it from the first night they met, as if Sebastian’s irritation towards the guy hitting on him earlier made him feel desired and loved. As if every time Sebastian makes sure he’s okay he’s saying he cares back. As if Sebastian taking care of him since earlier is increasing his trust. Because he is taking care of him, won’t leave until he’s sure Chris is recovered fully.

Because he’s the idiot who hurt him.

Chris is looking at him with such hope in his eyes and it’s hurting him. Sebastian can’t lie and say he doesn’t want it, at this point he can’t lie to himself, he wants him. If Chris becomes his then everything gets easier, Sebastian can protect him, make him happy, make him feel desired and wanted, adored. But that should be discussed now, so soon, Sebastian told Chris he doesn’t know him, but Sebastian doesn’t know Chris either. It’s way too soon to be talking about this. Yet he wants to.

_Can you hear my sorrow, dear? Can you guess the pain you’re inflicting me?_

Sebastian thought about it, he won’t lie, he thought of owning Chris. A few times- _all the time_. He even liked the idea, too much, but he can’t do it, he shouldn’t be considering it. He was sure he was done with that, he promised himself to never be responsible for anyone ever again. Chris is too young, too frail, too naïve. He has a whole life ahead of him, Sebastian can’t steal that from him. That would be selfish. Sebastian is arguing with himself, staring deeply, narrowing his eyes and Chris’ reaction comes almost instantly.

“Don’t look at me like I’m... breakable,” he winces of disgust, offended at the word he picked.

“But that’s what you are, if I wanted to I’d slit your throat before you can understand what’s happening, you’re just a human Chris. _You’re breakable._ ”

_I almost killed you tonight, don’t you dare tell me you’re invincible._

Long and awkward silence follows his last words but they don’t break the eye contact. Chris sits up, half of his back against the wall and his hand shyly moves closer to find Sebastian’s, tying their fingers together. Chris’ expression softens and Sebastian’s thumb starts caressing the back of his hand, automatically.

“We would travel the world?” Chris asks, changing the subject, “If I was yours.”

“If that’s what you wanted.”

There’s a lot of place Sebastian could take him to. Mountains, hidden lakes, abandoned towns, breathtaking landscapes. Silent woods, and marvellous cities. Could take him to Venice, Paris, could take him to Antarctica and see the aurora borealis. They could travel to unknown countries, forgotten ones, Sebastian knows already where he wants to start, what he wants Chris to see. Night always makes everything look much more beautiful.

“What happens when I’m older? When I’m forty or fifty, when I’m not young and desirable anymore? Will you get rid of me?”

Sebastian has this moment of reflection, wonders if one day he’d be able to not desire Chris. He doubts it. It’s so much more than just physical attraction. It’s not only Chris’ appearance, it plays a role, that’s for sure. Sebastian likes to have Chris’ thighs wrapped around him, likes the sensation of his lips devoted to please him, beard tickling and caressing. He likes his muscular neck, a lot. His eyes, big and blue and innocent and lustful. It’s his appearance but not just that, it’s the contrast, that adorable kid trapped in this huge, stunning body.

He’s kind and pure, youthful, with that thirst of discovering Sebastian’s world, so curious. Chris could be a century old and Sebastian would still think he’s this young innocent kid, because that’s what he’ll always be to him. Sebastian’s sure he’d never get tired of seeing the world like Chris sees it, he could stay by his side until his very last breathe and still find him beautiful in many ways. _He’s sure of it._

“I won’t.”

There’s another moment of silent, where they both try to understand what Sebastian meant. And then Chris, inexhaustible, has other questions to ask. Curious; and Sebastian grins tiredly, lovingly.  He really wants to know.

“Can you have… several people at the same time? What if you find someone else you like more than me?”

Sebastian wants to scoff, but he doesn’t. He spent decades and decades of his life alone, swore he’d never own anyone again, and yet here he is, having this discussion with Chris, and Chris is wondering, doubting, worrying about the fact Sebastian will get rid off him one day for someone else.

He really has no idea.

So Sebastian explains, “You can have as many people as you want, but you have to understand that it’s a commitment.”

“A sort of marriage?”

“Yeah, a sort of marriage. It’s tiring, it’s not a decision to make lightly. I watch over you, make sure you’re safe and happy, and you do the same.”

“So you’re saying that, if I’m yours, I’d be the only one?”

_How in the hell did I got myself into this discussing this?_

Of course. Chris would be the only one. His only one. Sebastian has not been able to desire anyone in such a long time, he forgot what it felt like, to care, to protect. Forgot his natural instincts, forgot what it was to fear the loss, to crave something and fight for it. If it had to happen, him desiring anyone else than Chris, if that made Chris feel sad, repulsed, undesired. Not special. Bad in any kind of way, then Sebastian wouldn’t do anything about it. That’s the point of having Chris, for Sebastian it means putting his happiness and comfort first. No matter the cost.

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees in a breath.

“I wouldn’t have to share you?”

It’s cute, his way of putting it into words. He’s seeing reality through rose-colored glasses and Sebastian wishes he saw the world that way. Because truth is, he’s seen too much, and the blood on his hands will never be washed away, it will always be present. His reality isn’t rosy and bright, there are no rainbows and flowers, not even sunlight. He’s got the darkness for company. Can’t escape it.

And he’s got his family.

“I’ll be yours as much as you’ll be mine.”

It’s not always the case, not for everyone. You have two types of vampires typically, (in fact there’s three, first type being the one refusing to own humans, for a few different reasons). There’s the ones like Sebastian, committing to one human only, two at the real most. And they spend their lives together, making sure the other one is pleased and happy, eventually leading to vampire transformation. And you have another type, who will find a certain amount of pleasure and power in owning as many people as they can. Those ones are the kind Sebastian avoids at all cost. Those are the ones making it difficult for others to find their place in this world.

Technically, Sebastian can do whatever he wants of Chris, if he owns him, if he is his, Chris has to obey, has to do what he’s told, he doesn’t have a choice, doesn’t have a voice but the other way around isn’t true; they’re not equals, not in Sebastian’s world. Lately though, more and more vampire that engage themselves in relationships like this tend to go both ways. The mutual feeling, what they’re calling love, between them being more important than anything else. More like a normal, human relationship.

When Sebastian said it was tiring, he meant it. It’s loyalty, devotion, it’s a real commitment. It implies a lot more than just being together. It implies a lot more than letting Sebastian feed on him. It’s belonging. Total one. Vampires like Sebastian take it very seriously, it has its rules and its principles, you can’t just go and do whatever you feel like doing. And the fact Chris doesn’t know the rules make it look like even more of a bad idea.

“And… if one day I want to leave?”

Sebastian does a great job at hiding the sudden punch he feels in the stomach.

“I’ll let you go. That would kill me inside, but if that’s what you really wanted, I’d let you go.”

Chris swallows loudly, what Sebastian mistakes for pain. Maybe Chris thought he wouldn’t try to keep him close, wouldn’t fight for him to stay by his side, at least that’s what Sebastian thought before Chris starts to speak again.

“What if I never want to leave you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you… turn me?” He says, unsure of his choice of words.

If Sebastian was able to discuss property, if he was able to consider owning Chris, _this_ discussion is one he can’t have tonight. “You have no idea what you’re asking right now, Chris.”

“I just want to know if there’s a possibility, in the future, if you and I…”

“Stop,” Sebastian cuts him mid sentence, his thumb not brushing Chris’ hand anymore. His eyes darkens and his expression hardens.

“Okay,” Chris breathes calmly, nodding softly. Sebastian leaves his gaze, looking in front of him, by the window, looking at the city lightened by the moonlight.

“Have you ever… done that before?”

Sebastian takes his time before replying, so many memories coming back at once to haunt him. Faces, laughs, touches. He remembers smells and pain, sadness, disgust. He remembers _him_ looking at him the way Chris is right now, remembers how _he_ looked at him when he was burning on a pyre. Remembers when _they_ had the same conversation he’s having with Chris. Remembers how _he_ was as naïve and innocent as Chris is. He wants to smile, laugh, and cry at the same time.

“Once,” he enlightens Chris’ curiosity, tone flat, without emotions. Holding everything that’s tumbling down inside.

But Chris isn’t an idiot, moves closer, nestles his head inside Sebastian’s neck, “I didn’t want to bring you bad memories. I’m sorry.”

Funny how the roles reversed themselves, Sebastian was the one asking for forgiveness not so long ago, and he _should_ still be the one, Chris has done nothing wrong, but Sebastian almost killed him. He can feel Chris pressing his lips against his skin, kissing here and there; Sebastian closes his eyes, catching Chris’ face in his hands, kissing him on the lips. Wanting to forget and quiet the voices inside his mind.

It’s tender and sweet, just their lips meeting at first, Chris parting his once or twice, letting Sebastian the chance to slide his tongue inside his mouth. Sebastian lays him on the bed, finding his place and kneeling between Chris’ legs, kissing him sweet and gentle until Chris leaves his mouth to wander against his cheek.

“I want you,” Chris breathes near his ear, rubbing his feet along Sebastian’s legs, “make me feel like I’m yours, _please_.”

The words resonate in Sebastian’s ear, a delicious plea going down his spine. Soon they’re out of their clothes and what started out loving and sweet quickly turns into something rough. Maybe it’s all those memories Sebastian’s been trying to forget, to bury deep, very deep down, coming up again. Silencing all those voices in his head whispering that Chris will never replace _him_ ; it’s good because he doesn’t want to. Chris is different on his own way. Chris is not _him_ and that’s what Sebastian is screaming to those voices as his hips snaps into Chris’ thighs.

Maybe it’s Chris who’s trying to feel Sebastian all around him, needing his touch, his presence; moaning so loud, body trembling and knees weakening with pleasure this time. He falls forward on the bed, arms failing under another wave of pure bliss. Sebastian’s head ghost above his shoulder, fangs brushing his skin, moving down his back, kissing and biting lightly, hand grasping at Chris’ wrist next to his head. He’s thrusting hard and fast, extracting desperate whimpers from Chris, lovely begging under him.

“ _Oh fuck_ , _FUCK_ ,” Chris groans loudly.

Sebastian growls, noises only motivating him to keep moving. Pleasing Chris, oh he just wants to please Chris at this point. Couldn’t care less about the rest. The world could be crashing down outside, he’d still thrust in Chris until he’s coming hard and loud. Until he’s pleased.

Sebastian’s feeling this sensation again, the one from their first night, Chris belonging to him again, completely at his mercy. He feels free, focusing on Chris’ pleasure only. He can see his mark on his neck and he remains gentle around it. Blood is calling, deafening sound, but he stays sweet, leaving soft kiss on his skin.

Releasing his hold on his wrist, his hand moves on Chris’ hips, slide it under his waist to lift him back on his knees and hands. His head nestles in his neck again, craving for his treat, yearning for blood. Feeling Chris’ chills on his skin. He’s moving so fast, but Chris is imploring him to go faster.

He’s struggling, between the blood calling for him, tempting and appealing, circulating and beating in his jugular and the fear of hurting Chris again. Not that he’s not two hundred percent focused on each sound Chris is breathing out, just a word, a tiny sound and Sebastian would stop. It’s not that, no, he’s more afraid _Chris_ might be afraid of doing it again, of letting Sebastian use him, drink him. He’d be right to wonder if Sebastian could stop himself a second time. He couldn’t blame him.

Sebastian takes the time, waiting, testing, trailing his fangs, kissing, nibbling, licking, sucking at his skin. He’s giving Chris the time to protest, turn his face, say no, object, anything. But when Chris’ runs his fingers in Sebastian’s hair as he’s kissing his neck lovingly, fondly worshipping every centimetre of bare skin, trying to excuse his fault, his betrayal, and he moans, almost crying, “fuck, bite me, _please,_ _bite me_ ,” needy and eager, Sebastian can’t cope.

He thrust into him, once again, roughly and deep, holds back a groan, he’s ready to bite and-

“ _FUCK_ ,” Chris _cries_ out. Hand leaving Sebastian’s hair to fall on the mattress, trying to maintain balance.

Sebastian hears the word, feels it though his body, feels it going up and down his spine. He mistakes the following moans for whines of pain and he stops right away. Terrified inside, his arm tightening around his torso, kissing the back of his neck, his free hand caressing softly the rest of his body. Afraid.

“Do you want me to stop,” Sebastian asks concerned, slowing down his rhythm until it’s just leisurely and nice, tiny movements, mouthing on his shoulder; sliding his lips along every bit of flesh Chris’ back can offer him. Devoted and caring, affectionate.

“ _No_ , I’m good,” he answers adorably, “ _ahhh_ \- keep going.” His fingers reaching for Sebastian’s hair to lose themselves through it again; he steals a kiss, a sweet and loving one and then he moves his body back and forth, giving Sebastian a slightly faster rhythm to follow. It stays this way, sweet and tender; Sebastian refusing to bite him and eventually they make love looking into each other’s eyes, in less animalistic position. Chris wrapping his legs around Sebastian’s waist just like he loves it.

And the night goes on, they still have maybe a little over half an hour to spend together before the sun settles and Sebastian needs to leave. Probably for a long time. The darkness of the room has lightened a bit though, and the sunset is threatening.

Soon, but not yet. He won’t waste a second he can spend with Chris.

“If… _I was yours,_ ” Chris starts, trailing his fingers on Sebastian’s cold chest, “we could do this all the time ?”

Chris is glued to his side, and Sebastian’s hiding his growing smile through his hair, “I’d fuck you for hours, if that’s what you want,” he says, playing, teasing. Pleased. Can’t deny he wouldn’t want it too.

“Are you just bragging or is that a promise?”

Sebastian holds back a laugh in extremis, “I already proved to you I’m not just bragging, didn’t I?”

This time, it’s good memories Sebastian is reminded of, only good ones. He doesn’t think of what happened earlier in the bathroom at the bar, no, Sebastian remembers Chris hitting on him a week ago, flustered. Remembers the exact beats of his heart when he dragged him down the alley, remembers the sweet enchanting song of his lustful moans when Sebastian was thrusting into him with passion. Remembers Chris, having a delicious moment of overconfidence, kissing Sebastian deeply while carrying blood in his mouth. His own.

That was _purely_ alluring.

He’s feeling the heat of Chris’ flesh, of his fingers wandering and lingering on his skin, warming up his frozen body. The sweat sticking, his hair sweetly tickling his nose and his facial hair rubbing against his chest. He’s hearing each and every one of his inhales and all of his exhales, the hot hair coming from his nostrils lasting on his torso. Sebastian listens to them, reassured and soothed, if he didn’t know, he’d never guess Chris almost died earlier.

But he knows, and he remembers. His hand stops stroking his arm and moves up to his neck, caressing his mark kindly. Chris doesn’t seem to notice and he snuggles closer, his leg between Sebastian’s.

“Will you tell me more, about your life? I bet you’ve got some incredible stories.”

“If you want to hear me ramble about my past then sure, someday I can tell you about it.”

Sebastian’s full of stories, not just murdering and betrayal ones. He didn’t spend almost five centuries killing people, he also did his faire share of stupid things, reckless things. How he met his family, all of his lives, there’s a lot he can ramble about.

“Tease me?”

So many options, so Sebastian settles for his favourite and worst one. He doesn’t even understand how it can be his favourite as much as he hates this story.

“I might have, accidentally, inspired a famous character,” he says, already starting to wince.

Sebastian can’t believe he’s bringing this to the table, because he’s been trying to forget about this for the last several decades. He’s not proud of the following announcement. He’s ashamed of it, that’s the least to say, because he really exposed himself, like an idiot; he could have died, _should have_ even. But that’s something everyone else decided to laugh about.

He’s been mocked in awful, playful, wonderful ways because of this.

“Which one?” Chris asks, curiosity killing him inside, it shows, glows in his eyes when he looks up at him.

“Dracula,” Sebastian says, wincing with disgust and disdain, waiting for Chris’ laugh to come to life. He doesn’t wait really long, an audible chuckle filling the room and hurting him inside. Both because he thought he’d never hear this laugh again, and then because it’s just mean.

_That’s really not funny. I could have died for this shit, Chris._

At this time, rule number one for the vampires was still: Do not, under any circumstances, expose yourself.

That changed.

“Don’t mock me,” Sebastian jokes. Chris laughs, sweet, adorable, fingers still wandering on his chest he looks up to him, smiling.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, and Sebastian stares. He’s stunning, tired and innocent and beautiful, and Sebastian feels something inside, something he hadn’t in too long, thought he wouldn’t feel ever again. He stares, insistent, troubled and Chris’ expression saddens. “You’re gonna leave me, aren’t you?”

“I have to,” Sebastian answers, because Chris knows he’s leaving town for a while. He’s breathing deeply, fighting this feeling that disturbs him. He’s got so much going through his loud brain, still wondering if Chris is alright, if he’ll be once he’s gone. Wonders how he can keep an eye on him when he’s away, wonders how he’s going to react now that he realised what _this feeling_ is. How he’s going to handle leaving Chris here, alone, unable to protect him and watch over him. And what if Chris finds someone better?

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it…” Chris looks miserable suddenly, with this heartbreaking gaze, that sad puppy look that suits him so well, he could almost cry. “Can you promise you’ll come back to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sebastian asks, obvious, “you’re mine aren’t you?"


End file.
